Eyes of Darkness
by summerthyme
Summary: Draco decides to have a little fun seducing the youngest Weasley, while she in turn uses him to get to her one true love, Tom Riddle, who has returned to his teenage form to take over the magical world.
1. EoD: 1

A/N:  Ach!  It took me FOREVER to get this done.  But it is, and I hope you enjoy it.  Hopefully it will get more interesting since I have gotten the introduction out of the way.  I think I have pretty much settled on what the plot will be like, so let's keep our fingers crossed for a speedy next-chapter delivery!  Please review, as they are welcome and appreciated.

DISCLAIMER:  Harry Potter characters and locations are the property of companies including but not limited to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.  No money is being made from this story.

Draco rolled over lazily on his side, toying with the rope that shut his bed curtains.  He sighed deeply, eyes in slits. He was bored; there was nothing else to it.  It was a usual Saturday morning at Hogwarts, no classes, no trips to Hogsmeade.  He had homework, but that could wait until tomorrow night. He didn't even have to do his potions. He smirked at the thought; Snape would give twenty points for Slytherin if Draco just showed up. 

His attention turned to the curtains.  They were of deep green velvet, and when closed, they could block out the light of the brightest fire.  Small silver serpents were embroidered around the edges, marching along in asymmetrical lines.

He sighed again, and sat up, discontent with his surroundings.  What to do, what to do?  He glanced over at the fire, and smiled lazily.  He always loved watching the flames.  They licked at the wood, sending dark streaks across the surface.  The fire would slowly demolish the wood, keeping it in its basic shape until all the substance was burned away, and then it would collapse in a heap of ashes, destroyed from the inside out.  

_Destroying from the inside out_, Draco mused.  That would be fun.  He had seen it done many times before, people manipulating other people, luring their trust, and then betraying them at the last moment, and watching the sanity of the other slowly crumble, leaving only a mass of broken thoughts and emotions.  It was one of the main ways the Dark Lord operated, and Draco admired him very much for it.  He had always wanted to try it himself; it looked incredibly fun. 

His eyes narrowed, and he smirked.  That control, that sheer power over another.  _And what a better person to practice it on than an unsuspecting student._  But there was only one question: _who?_    

Draco thought for a moment.  None of the sixth years, naturally, as they were all in his classes, and knew him too well.  They at least knew enough not to trust him.  The seventh years were eliminated also.  An upperclassman would be too suspicious, and most would not want to hang out with a sixth year.  _No one too young; I should at least get some… benefits out of this.  _A fifth year, maybe.  A fifth year girl.  But what house?_  No Slytherins, I wouldn't betray my house like that.  Ravenclaws would catch on.  Hufflepuffs… no, that would be too easy.  _His eyes suddenly lit up in a burst of inspiration.  A Gryffindor!  And not just any Gryffindor, he wanted the Weasel's little sister.  He grinned maliciously.  _And what a better way to hit the dream team.  Hurt poor little… Ginny?  Yes, that's her name.  Hurt poor little Ginny, and I'll take Potty and the Weasel too.  Besides,_ he thought, _even for a Gryffindor, she's pretty hot.  I bet she and I could have a little… fun. _

He hopped off his bed.  First, to find the little girl.  But what could he do to gain her trust?  _Maybe the old 'Oh, I'm just a poor misunderstood boy inside,' girls just love that.  It worked before…_

Draco smirked, thinking of some of his last encounters.  A few of the Death Eater's daughters, very gullible indeed.  Of course, he suspected they wanted the same thing as he did, so it really didn't matter. 

His grinned widened.  Live prey—this was going to be _fun_.

*          *            *            *            *

Ginny sighed again, and checked her watch.  Seven-thirty.  He wasn't coming.  She bit her lip to hold back the rage that was slowly building inside her.

Harry was supposed to meet her at six forty-five, to help her study for her Potions test.  He didn't know it as well as Hermione did, but she didn't care.  She was trying to set it up as a 'romantic rendezvous', and hopefully interest him in her. However, the last fives years he had completely ignored her, so why would he do anything different?  

She narrowed her eyes.  Five years, she had been after him.  Five years, and she still had not gotten what she wanted.  Bad things happened when Ginny didn't get what she wanted.

_ What I want to do is hurt him,_ she thought.  _Make him feel the way I have felt since my first year.  I want to rip his heart out of his chest and shove it so far up his—_

An outburst of giggles interrupted her thoughts.  _Damn first years.  _She casually aimed her wand at the offending area, and muttered something under her breath.

The giggles were then replaced by high-pitched squeals of terror.  She had successfully transfigured a book on the shelf into a foot-long spider, which now amused itself by jumping off the shelf into the offending student's hair.  Ginny smirked; now _that_ was fun.

Too easy though. 

_There's not enough good prey at this school_, she thought.  _Tom was right_.

_Tom . . ._

She smiled; but it was a cold smile that didn't reach her eyes.  It was five years, five long years from the time that she had last seen him.

Oh, she remembered him fondly.  Dark, slightly curling hair, deep brown eyes.  Only sixteen, but still one of the most beautiful people she had ever met.  His youth only added to the splendor.  His young body, but his eyes, intelligent eyes, that showed there was more to him than the longest story could ever tell.  They were eyes of the ages, and when Ginny looked into them for the first time she got lost.  She still would dream about them, meandering through their depths, and feeling peace for the only time in her life.

And he was the only boy—no, _man_—that she had ever loved.

It was the diary that started it, no denying that.  A simple entry, and then it blossomed into an infatuation and attachment so intense that it sometimes scared her.  The first time he had written back, he seemed so caring, and understanding, that she was touched.  She poured her heart out to him, and he reached back at her.  She grew to love him, and she would spend all her hours in class dreaming about getting back to her diary and writing him, just to see his gently arching script grace the page, words to beautiful to be seen by mortal eyes.

And the first time he controlled her; there was no way to describe it.  He enveloped her; he filled her, with emotions so exhilarating and comforting, sinfully gorgeous and frightening.  It was the greatest experience of her life.

But nothing could compare to the chamber.

The first time she had set eyes on him—breathtaking.  Finally, she was able to meet the one who knew her past the shy exteriors, who had prodded through her very soul.  She was overwhelmed with emotions, so completely besieged it seemed as if she couldn't breath, couldn't blink; it seemed her heart couldn't beat.  And he had walked up to her, and taken her two small hands in one of his own, and raised the other to her cheek.  He had slowly lowered his lips to her own, and kissed her softly.

And that kiss was poison.  It captured her in wild fever-dreams, a frantic, deep sleep.  He still talked to her, though, in the dreams.  He needed her, he said.  She was more important to him than anyone else in the world.  But he wished a favor.  Ginny, of course, was more than willing to agree.  She would have handed him the world on a silver platter if it had been possible.  Tom didn't ask for that much, though.  

He just needed her to be the bait.

Not for any sort of monster, or anything that would physically harm her.  He just needed something to lure the other boy, the only other one who could play with her emotions just the way Tom did.  But the feelings for Harry could have never amounted for what she felt for Tom.  

Tom also gave her instructions for when she woke up.  _Don't tell anyone about us,_ he had said.  _They'll never understand.  They'll say you're crazy, and they'll try their best to keep you away from me, and make you forget me.  But don't forget me, Ginny.  I'll never forget you.  I'll still owe you a favor after this.  Anything you ask for, I'll give it to you.  I love you._

She was content with that answer.  She was happy to stay forever in the Chamber of Secrets, just so she could hear his voice and see his face in her dreams.  She was happy until that damn Harry Potter came along, and stole her away from her love.  But Tom had promised he would see her again.

And after that, there was nothing, still was nothing, for five long years.  She sighed, not for the first time that night.  If she couldn't have him, if only—no, it was impossible. It was just a fantasy, but if only there was someone that beautifully cruel, someone so malicious and loving, that could at least take his place, until she could see him again.  But it was just a wistful dream…

And it was about that time her dream walked through the library door.


	2. EoD: 2

A/N:  This is taking me forever to write.  It's fun though, when I get a chance to do it.  This will be a dark!Ginny fic, a nice fic where Draco gets to stay evil.  Of course, we all know that's when he's at his sexiest ;)  Reviews are welcomed and appreciated; thanks are at the bottom.

DISCLAIMER:  Harry Potter characters and locations are the property of companies including but not limited to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.  No money is being made from this story.

Draco looked around the library, and a sly smile spread over his face as he saw Ginny sitting at one of the tables.  He had heard the mudblood jabbering on earlier about Harry meeting Ginny for some studying.  From the half-morose and half-pissed off look on her face, it was evident that he had never shown up.  Not a surprise, though, he had never given her the time of day for five years, why would he start now?

He sauntered over, trying to hide his smirk.  This should be easier than expected.  She must all ready be hurting, any girl would be.  And one such devoutly attached as poor little Weasel—it would be a cinch.

He walked over, feigning concern.  He honestly doubted she would believe him at first, but he'd continue, and after throwing on a little of the Malfoy charm, Voila!  She wouldn't be able to resist him.  But then again, no one ever could. 

He pulled a chair out beside her, and twirled it around, so he could sit in it backwards.  He set his head on the top rung.  "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound innocent and truly upset.

Ginny glared at him from the corner of her eyes.  "What the hell do you want, Ferret?"  She smirked at the expression on his face.  She had usually been meek with him, pretending to be the good little girl, like Tom had told her to be.  Avoiding suspicion.  But being able to shock him, unsettle him, gave her a strange feeling of power.  She associated it with that strange appeal setting the basilisk loose had given her.  It was the dark allure of control, and authority.

Draco visibly bristled, but then regained his composure.  "I was just curious.  You needn't get so snarky with me."

She sighed exasperatingly.  "The only time you deemed it necessary to step off your high-and-mighty pedestal to talk to me was to insult me.  Cut the shit, Malfoy.  What do you want?" 

He couldn't help himself; he grinned wolfishly, showing off his perfect teeth.  This was going to be fun.  "I never knew you to be so feisty,"

Ginny raised her head, and looked into his eyes.  She had a nasty retort, but it somehow wedged itself back into her throat when she fully saw Draco's expression.

Those eyes, she thought.  I've seen those eyes before.

They seemed to be grinning at her as well.  They were deep pools of nothingness, seemingly devoid of anything.  But at the same time, they were full of a kind of sweet-malice, a person who would kill you with kindness.

They were beautiful.  Beautifully menacing, glorious in a way, and enrapturing.  Looking into his eyes was like watching a Venus fly-trap devour a fly, and slowly suck its life away.

They were Tom's eyes. 

Draco stared at Ginny curiously.  Just a few moments before, she was angry and snappish, looking as if she wished to castrate him.  Now . . . she was staring at him with a strange mixture of fear, awe, and adoration. 

He began to grow uncomfortable; but, true to Malfoy training, he did not show it.

"I know all females grow speechless when looking upon me, but honestly, I didn't accredit such taste to you."

Draco's voice jolted Ginny back to reality.  She blinked, and stared at him with a sudden realization.  This was not her Tom, would never be her Tom.  But he was like him, in some ways.  The same eyes, the same manners.  Persuasive, and dangerous, like a cobra.  They both could hypnotize you before they strike.

She had waited five years.  Five long, hard, lonely years.  And she knew she would always love Tom; what would be the harm in indulging in one whim of hers?

She smiled slyly at Draco.  Casually twisting a strand of her fiery hair around a finger, she replied, evenly, letting her voice sound almost bored, but with the slightest _suggestion _of something else . . .    

"I'm just surprised, Draco.  I never knew your masculinity could be so intoxicating," she licked her lips seductively.  "I guess I've just never been close enough to realize it."

Draco slowly raised his eyebrows, still grinning.  _This will be much easier.  Probably more fun.   _

"Perhaps you would like a demonstration of just how attractive I can be?"

He leaned in, and brought his lips lightly to hers, with the slightest suggestion of touch.  He could hear her breathing quicken, and inwardly cackled with delight.

"Are you beginning to get the idea?"

She lowered her eyelids, so she was looking at him through half-covered eyes.  They sparkled with provocation and enticement.

"I am,"

She was about to say something else when a voice cut the two of them off.

"Ginny, are you back here?"  It was the sound that was distinctively Harry.  They heard footsteps in the row of shelves next to them.  

"Damnation!" swore Ginny lightly.  

Draco backed away from her slowly, and with a catlike grace, raised himself from his chair. 

"Until we meet again, Virginia," he began, sending chills down her spine.  "I promise you, we will have much more chances in the future."

"I know we will."

He silently slipped away, and just in time, for Harry entered from the other shelves just as Draco had slipped around a corner.    

"Gosh, I'm so sorry Gin, I completely forgot!" He began, sounding guilty and slightly distressed.  "We had Quidditch practice, and I wanted to get in some time to train our new Chaser.  You understand, don't you?"

Ginny smiled.  It was a cold smile, one that didn't reach her eyes, and far more malicious than any of the ones she had given Draco.  "Of course I understand, Harry.  I've understand why you couldn't show up for the last five years.  It's nothing, of course.  I all ready know where I stand with you:  right behind your broomstick, a slight third to dinner."

He winced; he didn't expect her to be so scalding and icy at the same time.  It was like touching a ghost, and then being set on fire by a Hungarian Horntail.

She swept up her books, and huffed past him with an unearthly grace, keeping her serenity.  Every echo of her steps seemed to stab at him, mocking him.

It wasn't that he felt bad because he had hurt her feelings.  He just was troubled that someone was mad at him.

But Harry had always been that dense.  He ran a finger through his all ready tousled hair.  Was he going to have to apoligize?  

Whew!  Finally, the end of that chapter.  It is a little unnerving, though, that it takes me hours (writers' block notwithstanding) to pump out something you will read in two minutes.  But hey, as long as you like it!

Thank you . . .

Chocagirl23 (I'll try not to just up and stop writing) Moon Angel (Well, here's your chapter!  I'll try to be quicker next time) Dazma (Well, two favs in one, then, Tom and Draco!) Evil*Fairy (Yes, the evil take rules.  And I'm writing it, so you must not be the only twisted one) Kitycat87 (Well, maybe I can make you MORE fond of evil!Ginny) MochaButterfly (Eh, a little bit of both, I think.  But either way, she gets some fun })


	3. EoD: 3

A/N:  Another chappie out WAY, I know, I'm sorry.  But I'm going to try to get these out faster!  Better than nothing, I suppose.  Anyway, we just have some disagreements in this one, and the chaos continues.  Harry is such a prat, isn't he? ;)  I'm probably the only Harry Potter fan who doesn't like *Harry Potter*.  Let's continue with the madness, shall we?

DISCLAIMER:  The Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, and other parties not mentioned here.  It's not mine, and I'm making no profit from this story.

Ginny sighed, and flopped down on her bed.  Harry was such a meddlesome little prat.  Why did he always have to stick his big nose into every one else's business?  She growled under her breath.  She could've had more time with Draco.

Draco . . . 

She had never really paid him much attention.  She just acted like the good little girl, her alternate persona, just like Tom had said.  Whenever Draco came around, she just left.  The last time she remembered him talking to her was some time in first year, making fun of her Valentine to Harry.  It had hurt her, then, when she had thought Harry had hung the moon and stars.  It was bitter, and she had cried after it, not because of embarrassment, but because she thought Harry really _didn't_ like it.

_God, I was so naïve. _

St. Valentine's day.  About four months before the chamber.  It was only a few days before she thought she loved Tom.  To her, Tom was an untouchable.  He existed only in her diary, not being real.  Or so she had thought . . .

_The power washed over her in waves, mesmerizing her with the darkness.  The wall she stood in front of looked familiar.  A brief picture flashed through her mind:  a cat hanging on that very wall, around Halloween.  She was barely aware of the words she was writing, so immersed was she in the feeling of the moment.  "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."  I wonder who 'she' is, she thought.  Too bad for her; it doesn't sound like a good thing will be happening.  _

_She blanked out again, one of the many missing pieces that had been puzzling Ginny for years.  She never did figure out what happened during those many nights.  When she woke again, she was at the foot of a large statue, one in the shape of a man.  It was in a large cavernous room, like . . . _A secret chamber.  _Ginny gasped.  Where had she been taken?!_

_Calm down, Ginny, the voice said.  She turned around swiftly.  Standing before her was a boy, about sixteen.  He had dark hair, and deep brown eyes.  There was something about him, though, that struck a memory._

_Tom? She asked, timidly._

_Yes, it is me, he said, grinning.  I've waited so long to meet you, Ginny.  I never knew anyone like you._

_Ginny could only stand there in awe.  She was finally meeting _him_, the boy who had invaded her dreams and her thoughts for that long, lonely year.  Her only true friend, and only true . . . love._

_He walked up to her, and gently cupped her cheeks with his hands.  And he kissed her._

_Do you remember everything I told you? He asked._

_She nodded.  Everything, about the muggles, and the mudbloods, and what they did to him.  They tortured him; his own father had even left him to die.  All because Tom was a wizard.  It made sense, what he told her.  Muggles were horrible, evil people.  The purebloods were the true victims.  Salazar Slytherin had realized this, and tried to fix the problem.  But he hadn't succeeded, and Tom was here to finish the job.  _

_Do you believe me now? Tom was asking. _

_She nodded again.  She did believe it, not only because of the evidence he had provided, but because he wanted her to.  He wanted her to so bad, she could tell.  And she believed him, at first only for his sake, but then for her own._

_He smiled.   Ginny, you're my best girl, do you know that?  You're going to help me . . ._

Ginny blinked the tears away.  _Oh Tom, just one sign.  One hint that you still remember me.  Please! _

She got up abruptly, and strode into the bathroom.  She scrubbed her face, waiting until the redness left her eyes.  Crying is a weakness, he had told her that too.  And she didn't want him to see how weak she really was.  

She wasn't going to deny it; she needed someone.  Who she really needed was her Tom, but she was willing to settle for less.

Gray eyes danced in her head.  A pale, face smirked at her, insinuating fun.  Draco was not Tom, no, but a replacement.  And a pretty damn good one, if you asked her.  Or him, for that matter.  

She dried her face, set in her decision.  She checked her watch:  10 o' clock.  After curfew, and therefore too late to be chasing phantoms or lovers.  It didn't matter which; if you were caught, it was detention and fifty points from your house.  Not that Ginny cared about the points, of course.  She just didn't want a detention to take her time away from Draco.

_Wait until tomorrow_, she thought.  _Tomorrow is Sunday, seek him then._

She sighed, and crawled into her bed, turning her nose up at the scarlet coverings.

_We really need to get some green in here . . ._

*        *          *          *          *          *        

Draco poked at the scrambled eggs that lay on his breakfast plate.  They squirmed and jiggled, dancing to the tune of an unheard song.  He was pointedly trying to ignore Pansy's nonstop jabbering of nonsense, but so far it wasn't working.

"Anyway Drakkie, what do you want to do today?  It's a Hogsmeade weekend, we can go down to the Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeer!  I bet we'll see those stupid Gryffindors in there, acting like idiots as usual."  She gave a long-suffering sigh.  "If only they wouldn't allow such filth in this school.  But anyway, Drakkie baby, how's about it?"

She fluttered her eyes in what she thought was a suggestive manner, but all she succeeded in doing was loosening her false eyelashes.

"No" said Draco, his voice devoid of expression.

"Er, what did you say?" asked Pansy, a look of confusion crossing her face.

"I said," began Draco slowly.  "No.  It's not  even a Hogsmease weekend, that's next week."

Pansy's face screwed up in anger.  "Fine, Draco Malfoy!  See if I ever date you again!"  She stalked away from the Slytherin table, getting odd looks thrown at her from students throughout the hall.

"We dated?" asked Draco to no one in particular.  It was news to him.  _Thank God it's over, I guess._

He poked his eggs again.  They had chilled during Pansy's tirade, and therefore solidified.  _Damn.  Well, I guess breakfast is over._  

He suddenly heard a loud crash, and glanced over at the Gryffindor table, to discover the source of the problem.  He looked just in time to see Ginny, hair in a flaming halo about her, storm away, and an equally angry looking Ron, who was being comforted by Harry and Hermione. 

Draco grinned, his eyes narrowing.  He got up from the table, and followed Ginny out the doors of the Great Hall.

*        *          *          *          *        

"How could you yell at him!  So he was a little late; he showed up, at least."

"A _little_ late? He was an _hour_ late!  Because of damn Quidditch!  My Potions test is Monday, what I am supposed to do?  Fail?  Thanks Ron, that's really kind of you!"  Ginny's eyes were narrowed, and she was glaring across the breakfast table at her brother, who was glaring at _her_.

"So?  You still shouldn't be yelling at my friends!"

"Ron?  It's ok, really," said Harry, who looked a little embarrassed that he was the source of the problem.  "She really didn't yell at me, and I did deserve it, since I was late…"

"No, she shouldn't be so snarky!  And she should hang out with her own friends!"

"I don't have any friends, _Ronald, _mainly because you scare them all off!"  She banged her plate down on the tabletop, trying not to break it over her brother's head.  "Fuck off, Ron!"  She turned around and stormed off, sending flames from her eyes.  

_I cannot believe him!  I _will_ get some revenge!_

Thank You . . . 

~*pinkpanther*~ (yeah, this is idiot!Harry.  And I agree, any Draco _is_ nice) Dazma (I'm gonna be on your favs?  *BIG hug* Thanks!) Evil*Fairy (Not much twistedness in this chapter, I know, but there will be some SOON) Nalleen (Thank you! I know, this isn't really soon, sorry!) Swim Freak (Thanks!  I lurve Evil!Ginny, there aren't enough of 'em)  Coffee (Spark?  Er, maybe that's an understatement.  We'll get some flames soon!)  Material Girl (Wow, they _are_ in character, aren't they?  Hopefully I can get them to stay that way!)  Rayven Blackwood (I know!  I can't STAND Harry, he's such a prat!)  MochaButterfly (Thanks a bunch!  Evil!Ginny rocks.)

Fingers crossed to getting the next chappie out soon!  Please R/R!


	4. EoD: 4

A/N:  Here we go, chapter four!  Hopefully it should get more interesting.  I think I might ditch the plot I was going to do, and just go with the flow.  Don't worry, I'll figure something out!  And this one got out faster than the last one!  Hooray!  Also, I'm leaving for vacation on Saturday, so unless I manage to pump out another chapter before them, this will be the last one for a few weeks.  Sorry!  But I'll see if I can talk my muse into something reasonable.  

Disclaimer:  The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and companies not belonging to me.

Ginny slammed out of the Great Hall, and exited the main entrance.  As it was Sunday, there were no classes to be had, and therefore the grounds should have been swarming with students.  But it was a gray day of a Sunday, one that made you want to curl up in a small, secluded corner and sleep.  No one but the insane (or the Gryffindor Quidditch team) would want to be out in this weather.  But Ginny was one of the few who appreciated dreary days, and was hoping to stanch her anger.  

She walked over to the lake, and gently dragged her fingers across the surface, attracting the giant squid to swim in the shallows.  She stroked one long tentacle gingerly, and then watched in silence as it floated across to the other shore.  The water temperature was pleasant, unusual for the season, and under other circumstances would've been nice for a swim.

_Or nice to throw irksome older brothers in._

Not for the first time, she fervently wished she had her little black book to confide in.  Tom would understand her, he always did.  

_Oh Tom, just one sign!  Please!_

She crouched in silence, watching her reflection in the water.  Her outline was blurred and fuzzy, like a picture out of focus.  She stayed until she saw another figure, gradual getting bigger.  She turned around, and saw Draco striding towards her.

She licked her lips.  If Ron was being a prat today, at least she could have a little fun.  _I wonder what he wants . . . _

Draco smirked as he casually strolled towards her.  She was waiting for him, he could tell.  Her eyes were large and wet, reminding him of a doe's.  But he was not fooled by the outside appearance; she knew a fire was raging under those brown orbs.  And if he could aggravate it in the right direction, he could use her to his advantage. 

"Hello Ginny.  Make anyone cry today?"

She smiled slowly, narrowing her eyes.  "Not yet.  Would you like to be first on the list?"

He laughed.  "No thank you.  I've seen you when you've been upset; it's not a pretty sight."  He paused.  "Actually, since you're so ravishing, it was a beautiful sight indeed."

She knew he was just trying to flatter her, but a blush still crept surreptitiously into the apples of her cheeks.  The pink of it, instead of clashing, seemed to compliment her hair.

Draco gracefully lowered himself to the ground on the shore beside her.  He rolled up his sleeves.  

"Nice day for a swim, eh?"

Ginny didn't say anything.

"Ginny?"

She was staring, gaze focused on his left forearm.  

Draco convulsively rolled up his sleeves, turning his head away, and mentally giving himself a vicious diatribe. 

_You dumbass!  You idiotic wet prat!  It was supposed to be a secret, you know what they said!  God, I hope no one finds out about this.  But the girl may say something!  What would father do?_

He turned to look at Ginny, preparing to give her a small memory charm, just strong enough to forget the sight she had just seen.  But to his amazement, she didn't seem disturbed.  She was gazing at him with a mix of awe and adoration, and the slightest hint of . . .  longing?

"You know him?"

Draco nearly started.  Why would she want to know?  And why was she giving him that peculiar look?  Should he tell the truth?  And why did she look so hungry for the knowledge?

Would she want to see him, too?

After hesitating a bit, he finally uttered a small, but no less forceful, "yes."

She leaned over, and in a touch that suddenly felt too tender and innocent, reached for his arm.  While doing so, her blouse fell slightly open, revealing the soft swell of her breasts and an ample supply of her cleavage.  Draco took a deep breath, and tried to control his body's reaction; she was dangerously close to his lap, and would surely notice.

She took one of her long, pale fingers and gently traced the outline of the skull, then drug the tip along the emerald curl of the snake.  

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Draco's eyes widened.  Was this _really_ little Ginny Weasley, daughter of mudblood-loving Arthur Weasley, and practically a sister to the Git-Who-Lived?

Could she really be a supporter?

He looked at her again.  That expression was back.  It was as if she was trying to remember something from a long time ago, and couldn't recall exactly what she wanted. 

She raised her large brown eyes until they met his icy gray ones.  "Could you take me to him?"

*        *          *          *          *          *        

What was that?  Ginny did a double take at the image she saw imprinted on Draco's left forearm.  The Dark Mark!

_It was another blurred memory, like a photograph with water spilled on it.  She saw his arm. _

_"Tom, what's that?"_

_He glanced at the point she was gesturing towards.  "Oh, that?" he said, with a slight grin. "That's to show how strongly I feel.  I have so much conviction in what I told you, so I put this on to show everyone just how serious I am."_

_She smiled.  "That's great Tom!  And it's so pretty.  Can I have one too?"_

_He chuckled merrily, and tweaked her nose.  "Don't worry sweetheart, you'll get yours someday too."_

Ginny traced the outline of Draco's mark. 

_Could this be it?_ She thought.  _Tom, after so long, is this finally my sign?_

Draco had the mark.  That meant that he had saw Tom, or at least the form of Tom that existed now.  But he was still the same old Tom, her Tom.  Draco knew him.  Draco had _seen_ him.  How could one person be so lucky?

_Think, Ginny.  Use this to your advantage.  You have, in your hands, a boy of seventeen, who can take you to Tom.  An ignorant, easy to manipulate teenage boy.  Do this right and he will take you to Tom._

She licked her lips slowly, and looked back up at Draco's face, biting her lip.  She made big, sad eyes at him, an expression she knew to be very attractive, hoping to appeal to his "lower-brain."  She took a deep breath.

"Could you take me to him?"

A little short, I know, but the next one will be longer.  Tom should be making his appearance in chapter five or six . . . I can't wait!  This is really fun to write (well, when I get inspiration).  My Draco Malfoy action figure is my muse, so he's helping me along.  He sits on my computer and calls me a mudblood ;)

Thank you . . . 

Wednesday Adams (I noticed that too!  Everyone makes a big deal about his b-day, but he doesn't give a flobberworm's ass about theirs!)  bri (More Gin'n'Tonic to come!) 

Missy-chan (Thanks! I'm glad you like it)   Dazma (Yes, right up where the sun don't shine! ^_^)  Siren (Nah, he'd be a disgrace to the Slytherin house.  But hey, at least he'd be miserable!)  Caroline X (Evil Gin ROCKS!)  ~*pinkpanther*~ a.k.a. skyblupink (I don't know how he lived either)  Nala /Ethereal (Thank you!)


	5. EoD: 5

A/N:  Hee hee hee, this keeps getting more fun!  I absolutely LURVE this story, so I don't have any plans to quit soon J  I just got back from vacation, so I'm sorry this took me so long!  And Tom WILL make and appearance SOON, I promise!  Please review, they make me happy!  !_!

DISCLAIMER:  The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and other unnamed parties.  I neither claim nor imply rights to it. 

She sat, idly twirling her scarlet hair around a slender finger.  She smiled slowly, trying to grasp just what she was going to be able to do.  Draco was going to serve a higher purpose than just a simple plaything.  He now was upgraded to the "Pawn" status, her little gopher to take her to Tom.

God praise female persuasion.

She was so giddy she laughed out loud, which would have earned her a reproachful glance from Madam Pince, had the librarian been there.  Ginny was back in the library, at the secluded corner where she had first talked to Draco.  It was a useful little corner, having few visitors other than her and Draco.  The cobwebs crawling across the ancient leather of the books was also successful in scaring away squeamish people similar to Parvati and Lavender, ensuring privacy.

She checked her watch; Draco should be there in a few minutes.  They had a lot of planning to do if she was going to be an initiate.  She had told him she wanted, no, _needed_ to see Tom, and to join the Deatheaters.  Damn idiot believed her.  She did want to be a Deatheater, and have a pretty little tattoo of her own, but her main reasons were to see Tom.

It was a little strange, though, how he first reacted when he heard her call Voldemort "Tom."  He started, and nearly had a coronary.  _Don't call him that!_ He had said, as if he expected Voldemort to pop up behind him and punish him for blasphemy.  

She had calmly explained to him that "Tom" was his name, and Lord Voldemort sounded too pompous anyway.  He was all ready so great; every one knew it.  He didn't have to have it in the title.

She hummed softly to herself, a strand of music that she seemed to have forgotten at one point, but was now reclaiming her memory.  She closed her eyes slowly, and words began to fit themselves comfortably with the tune.

_And the darkness will engulf the light_

_And in the night it will all seem all right_

She sighed as the words wrapped around her, and she checked her watch again.  For some strange reason, she didn't feel as anxious waiting for Draco as she did waiting for Harry.  _Probably because I know he'll come.  I _thought _that shot of my chest would come in handy . . . _

A shuffling was heard from the next aisle over.  Draco appeared, and walked over to Ginny's table.  _Glided_ would have been more appropriate, as he moved with all the liquid grace carried throughout the Malfoy genes.  Ginny noticed this with appreciation.  She would have to learn to move like that. 

He settled down into the seat beside her.  He slowly raised an eyebrow at her.  "Are you sure you're ready to meet Voldemort?"

She chuckled.  "I _have_ met Tom," she watched with satisfaction as he winced.  "And I want to see him again."

"Ok," said Draco slowly, just the slightest hint of apprehension, and a dash of disdain added for good measure.  "But before we plan anything, you have to make a bond not to tell anyone."

Ginny nodded.  Wizard's bonds were not something to be light about.  When a wizard swore, it was a magical happening, and the persons involved were forced to keep it, unless under the influence of veritaserum or severe torture.  In ancient times, some witches and wizards were killed for not keeping the bond.

Ginny bit her lip in indecision, but then resolutely decided.  _Anything to see Tom again._

She smiled.  "Deal."

Draco smirked slowly.  "I wasn't sure if you had the guts for it, Ginger.  I supposed I underestimated you."  He drew his wand, and waited for her to do so too.  They lightly pressed the tips together.

"_Eraqueiro_," said Draco.

The wands glowed a soft green for a moment, and then dimmed back to their original state. 

"Now that we're finished with that, can we get on with the real business?"  Ginny asked, a bit impatiently.  She was a little agitated at being referred to as "Ginger."

Draco smiled, another of his fox-sly smiles.  "We're having a meeting at the Manor on Christmas Eve, three weeks away.  It would be the soonest you would get to see him."

Ginny grinned.  "Perfect.  But how would I get there?"

Draco shrugged.  "Simple.  Get Potty,  Mudblood, and Weasel to go home for the holidays, and just convince them you want to stay here.  Just don't sign the list, and you can ride home with me and stay at the Manor."

"Easier said than done.  You and I both know that _Ron_," she spit the name out as if it were some sort of venomous poison.  ". . . would never let me stay by myself.  We have to come up with some sort of semi-valid reason."

"Just say you have some sort of pressing report you have to get done, and you need the library."

"I'll just try to avoid the offers of help from Hermione Granger: walking textbook."

"That should be one of the easiest things to do.  Just trust me, things will go off without a hitch.

"Oh," Ginny smiled again, maliciously, and with eyes slightly narrowed.  "Draco, I just _love_ your ideas."  She licked her lips slowly.  "How do you come up with them?"

Draco lost control, but just momentarily.  Ginny smirked satisfactorily to herself; that trusty sex appeal was being put to good use again.

"I just do, Ginger.  Now, shouldn't you go to bed?  We've a busy three weeks ahead if we want to convince Father and Voldemort if you can come."

Ginny smiled, and yawned.  "Now that you mention it, I am a little tired."  She ambled out of her chair, and stood, throwing her shoulders back and her arms up in an exaggerated stretch.  Draco was put in mind of a particularly sly cat he had once had as a child. 

_Hmmm . . . I wonder what makes that kitten purr . . . _ 

Short, I know, but I've already started the next one.  Tom's in it, I promise!  And I'll whip myself with leather bullwhips until I finish it.  Anyway, thank you for waiting _patiently_.

Thank you. . . 

Skyblupink (I took too long, I'm sorry!) Dazma (I don't think he'll be too happy either)  Caroline X (Thank you!) jen (You're right—they both *are* really sexy) Lyn Malfoy/Felton (Thanks!) Rubyjuls1722 (Thank you!) tiffany (Hee hee hee, she'll snap and have a big heart attack ;)  daydreamz (I'm on your favs?  BIG HUG!)  A Devilish Angel (I dunno, we'll just have to find out)  Princess of Mordor (Thanks!)  Faith Accompli (Yeah, I need to go and fix some of those *_*  I'm glad you like it so far!) Bruna (Thanks!) DiagonAlley (Thank you!)  Nirejseki  (Thank you!  Hmm. . . I suppose they probably didn't like the screaming . . . )


	6. EoD: 6

A/N: I promised, and here he is, TOM! He's got his own evil scheme up his sleeve, let's see if it will lead to something bad . . .  
  
This chapter's for Dazma, because I was afraid she'd hurt me if I didn't put Tom in soon.  
  
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and Scholastic books, plus other companies not named here.  
  
  
  
A dreary rain pattered against the windows of an old tower, located high above Malfoy Manor. A single lantern lit in the room cast shadows on the walls that danced to the music of an unheard song. A long table stood against a wall on the far side of the tower, and on it laid a variety of interesting things. There were several scarlet phoenix feathers, and an envelope containing several dark, glossy hairs. An old leather book, the musty cover stamped in gold, reading "Property of Salazar Slytherin." A small iron-wrought mirror, with serpents swarming and twisting around the glass, the emerald eyes staring out at the user, and baring their silver fangs, lay between about ten small phials, all filled with potion ingredients in colors of pus-yellow, bile green and venomous red. There was a large glass jar, about three-fourths full of a dark red liquid, generating a particularly poisonous stench. A cork stopper was jammed on the top, the rim sealed with candle wax. A peeling brown label was fixed on the side, and "Dragon's Blood" was written on it, in an extremely untidy scrawl. Finally, there was a single piece of parchment, a letter.  
  
An emerald, high-backed chair rested in front of the empty fireplace. Sitting in the chair, with his chin propped up on his hands, was the pale form of Lord Voldemort.  
  
He slowly stretched up from the chair, displaying the same feline grace that passed itself through the Malfoy genes, and which Ginny fervently wished to acquire. He slithered over to the table, and picked up the parchment, once again scanning its contents.  
  
  
  
Your Graciousness,  
  
I have come into contact with a person at Hogwarts who wishes to become a part of our royal order. This person in question, Virginia Weasley, says she devoutly believes in the cause, even if her family connections would suggest otherwise. She requests to meet you at the next convenient time, preferably over the Christmas holidays. With your permission, we would like to be able to arrange for her to visit the manor over break, and to meet with you then. She is very eager and devoutly wishes that you will comply.  
  
Your Faithful Servant,  
  
Draco Lucifer Malfoy  
  
  
  
Lord Voldemort raised his pale eyebrows thoughtfully, and slowly a wicked grin spread across his face.  
  
Yes, my little Ginny. I know she is firm in her convictions; I saw to that matter years ago. She will prove to be an irreplaceable member of my legions.  
  
Irreplaceable, yes, for she would do anything her Tom told her to do, without the slightest doubt. However, that proved to be a problem. The Lord Voldemort that existed now was a lot different in appearance than the young Tom Riddle that she had fallen in love with in the Chamber of Secrets. In order for Ginny to trust him, he could not look like the reptile he was now. That problem would be taken care of shortly.  
  
Voldemort folded the letter, and placed it on the table, deciding to write a reply after his experiences tonight. He then picked up Slytherin's book, and flipped through the worm-eaten pages, until he found what he was looking for.  
  
'Youth Regeneration Potion' was inscribed in a precise, almost musical handwriting. To restore the image of one's youth, one must drink the potion specified below, which shall contain three hairs of that same person. The drinker's body will return to whatever age he was when the hairs were plucked, but shall remain in the present time. Extreme caution should be used when administering this potion, because its effects are permanent.  
  
Voldemort smiled. This was exactly the potion he needed to get the trust of the Weasley girl, and have a valuable insider into the workings of the so-called 'Light Alliance.'  
  
With a lazy flick of his wand, he summoned a cauldron above the empty fireplace. With another flick, small blue flames flared up, and twisted themselves around the cauldron in a deadly embrace. After referring to the book, Voldemort proceeded to open the phials and pour the ingredients.  
  
First the red one, which left a stench like burnt apples, and the blue one, which sent steam flying into the air when it was released. The yellow one, black one, and orange one were dashed into the cauldron, and were followed by the green one and one that was bright silver. Finally, aqua, maroon, and hot pink were added to the mixture.  
  
The potion was now bubbling a muddy, squelching brown. Voldemort's serpentine lips curled into a contemptuous smirk.  
  
"Perfect."  
  
He picked up the envelope of hairs, and carelessly tossed three of them into the potion. The hovered a second on the surface, then disappeared, absorbed by the various chemicals. The hairs were most important, as they would determine his age. Naturally, Voldemort had saved a few long hairs from his earlier years. Most notably, when he was sixteen.  
  
He selected two long, scarlet-and-gold phoenix feathers from off the desk. He daintily dropped them into the cauldron, where they sat on top of the mixture for just a moment, then sunk slowly, as if they weighed as much as bludgers. The potion seemed to suck the very color out of them, for after they had sunken below the surface, swirls of ruby and gold swam in the brown.  
  
After giving the cauldron two good stirs, widdershins, with his wand, Voldemort picked up the large jar marked 'Dragon's Blood.' He scratched the wax seal off from around the rim and cork, and proceeded to twist it out, a difficult feat, even for the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived.  
  
After finally getting the jar open, he poured the entire thing, all three- fourth's worth, into the cauldron. The mixture immediately began to boil haphazardly, and sending shoots of steam into the air. Dragon's blood, as most people are wont to tell you, is a highly potent potion ingredient, and usually used as a catalyst for chemical reactions. The only problem with this was because it was highly potent; it would kill a full-grown wizard if it touched them. It acted as an acid would, and could bore holes through flesh and bone. The only difference between dragon's blood and actual acid is that, unlike acid, dragon's blood would spread, and eat away at parts of you that hadn't actually been spilled on.  
  
Needless to say, Lord Voldemort was very careful.  
  
After waiting for about ten minutes, the potion was finally ready. It had changed colors once again, now slightly glowing a bright turquoise. Voldemort picked up a goblet from the mantel above the fireplace. It was silver, with the Malfoy family crest wrought upon it. Snakes and dragons twisted around one another, running up and down the sides and around the rim, making one giant mass of jeweled teeth and eyes.  
  
Muttering some unintelligible words, and flicking his wand, he sent some of the liquid into the goblet. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head back, and drained the cup.  
  
He staggered. The potion burned inside him, scalding his mouth and his throat, and made him double over in pain. He lurched over to the long table, and grabbed the side of it, so as not to fall down. It was even worse than taking Polyjuice. His winced as he felt each and every hair force itself out of his skin, the jet-black that he remembered from so long ago. He felt his fingers shrink, his skin turn back to tan, and his body compress itself, folding over and back into his sixteen-year-old's height.  
  
After what seemed like hours of torture, the potion's effects were almost over. Then, in one sharp, brief, yet beautiful burst of agony of the utmost pain, it was over.  
  
Voldemort took deep shaking breaths, still clinging to the table. Finally, he managed to control himself. Groaning slightly, he stood, his robes hanging loosely around him. He picked up the silver mirror from the table, and looked into it.  
  
He gasped, and his eyes widened in surprise. The potion had indeed worked, for there was a sixteen-year-old staring back at him from the glass. Raven locks of hair fell messily about his face, and quizzical eyes looked at him. Voldemort smiled evilly, and the boy in the mirror did the same.  
  
"Hello Tom."  
  
  
  
So, did ya like it? I hope so. I don't think it's longer than normal, but if it is, it's only by a hundred or so words. But see! I got this one out faster too!  
  
Thanks . . .  
  
Nirejseki (Cymbals, eh? I'm flattered!) Dazma (See, here he is, Tom! And restored to his former sexy self ;p) Princess of Mordor (Thanks!) LaughingGasGirl (Thank you!) Lady of the Ring (Thanks!) Fay Elf (I can't wait to see what happens when they meet too! I suppose I should figure that out soon.) skyblupink (I know, I'm sorry! Damn family vaction!) Jen (Thank you!) Solo (Since you read it yesterday, then this chapter *is* soon. Hooray!) Caroline X (Not really long, but full of Tom, yes!) Archer (I hope it doesn't deteriorate either. That would suck. But anyway, thank you! I love Slytherins too. Ginny should have been one. Well, post-Tom Ginny. But then she couldn't give any info away about the Gryffin—uh, I should be quiet before I reveal too much of the plot. But you'll probably make some good guesses about what will happen anyway.)  
  
Once again, thank all of you. I have 54 reviews! RAPTURE! That's the most I've gotten for a story (besides Ginny's Revenge—ugh, that one is HORRIBLE!). Anyway, thank you guys! And thank you, Archer, for my cookie! 


	7. EoD: 7

A/N:  AHH!  It's been WEEKS since I updated!  Now, yes, I should have written faster, but it wasn't _all_ my fault!  I couldn't get on the site for about a week!  Well, that's my feeble excuse for the day.  But you get an extra-long chapter to make up for it!  It's almost 2500 words, joy!  Ginny fools her brother and Draco has an under-the-table experience.  Plus, the long-awaited snog!  R/R

DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, and various other third parties.  Copyright infringement is not intended.

To Ginny, the weeks before the holidays seemed to simply melt away.  Her and Draco's plan was a good one, she was confident, but her workings in it were to be tested as soon as McGonagall passed the Christmas list around. 

After the Prof. posted it in the common room, Ginny immediately rose to add her name to the list.  Ignoring the quill that was provided with it, she used her own, which was filled with a special ink she had obtained from Draco.  It was a variation of the muggle "invisible ink", as it was charmed to be visible only for a short period of time before it disappeared.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione would _see_ Ginny write her name down, would _see_ the words in her graceful script crossing the parchment, but it would be gone before McGonagall could take note of it.  

_Perfectly conniving, _she had told Draco upon receiving it.  _If only we could replace Dumbledore's ink with it; that would serve for some amusement._

Draco had chuckled.  _How devious, Ginger.  You would have made an excellent Slytherin._

Ginny snorted, remembering her new nickname.  The first time he had called her that, she was annoyed, but now it seemed to fit.  Her hair the same fiery color, and her personality, with just the tad bit of spice.  And no one else called her Ginger; it was his special name.

However, the thought of Draco was starting to preoccupy Ginny's mind.  His image in her mind's eye caused a flood of feelings to follow, ranging from excitement to nervousness, and even guilt.  She was extremely embarrassed to admit to herself that she just _might_, by the slightest _margin, _have feelings for him.  Actual feelings, not just a random oh-he-is-such-a-hottie-so-I-like-him thought, followed by a bought of giggles.  The trying thing was that these were the same feelings she had when she thought about Tom. 

_Tom . . . _

But what didn't come with Draco was that unbearable sense of longing, so overpowering that it made Ginny want to curl up in the fetal position and cry for hours on end.  That gut-wrenching, soul-scarring kind of want, that sprung from the depths of her very being and demanded attention no matter what she was doing.  The need for her to have his arms around her, have his lips brush across hers, to be with him.  

Draco was just a distraction, that's all.  Just a little crush, for though Ginny was sixteen, she was still subject to those kinds of thoughts.  They still had two days until they left for the manor, two days until everyone left for the holidays.  Two days in which to meet in secret in their secluded corner, surrounded by nothing but dusty books.  Enough time for a snogging session or two.  Plus, she could capture Draco for her own.  She knew he was attracted, but to have him want her, and do anything for her, would be useful.  Not to mention funny.

Two days until they left for the manor.  Draco had sent owls ahead, to his father and Tom.  Draco and Ginny would pack their things, as per normal, and get prepared to leave.  However, Ginny would say her goodbyes to the Dream Team at the school, and they would leave in one of the carriages.  Then Ginny and Draco would grab their trunks, and get in another carriage, taking them to the station at Hogsmeade.  Only they wouldn't get on the Hogwarts' Express; they would meet Lucius himself in one of the back alleyways behind Honeyduke's.  He would have a portkey prepared, which would take them to the entryway of the illustrious Malfoy Manor.  

It was planned out perfectly, only waiting to be put into action.  But, first things first:  Ginny had to deal with Ron.

"Ginny!" he cried, when he saw her sign her name.  "What're you doing?  We're all coming home for Christmas!"

She turned around, taking a deep breath.  "I _told_ you!  I wanted to stay here for the holidays.  I all ready talked to Mum about it, and she says it's fine."

"Stay here?  But why on Earth would you want to do that?  No one is going to be here!"

Ginny sighed, and rolled her eyes.  "I don't care if anyone is going to be here.  I have a _huge_ essay for Snape due the day we get back, and I need to use the library."

It was then Hermione decided to stick her nose in, as she always did with anyone else's business.  "You know, Ginny, I bet I could help you with it, that way you could come to the Burrow with the rest of us."

"Yeah," said Ron.  "Remember?  Hermione and _Harry_ are going to be with us."

Ginny almost snorted as she heard Ron stress Harry's name.  He still believed that she was head-over-heels for him.  That was ok, though, because it made him less protective and suspicious of her when she went missing for hours at a time, as she had grown accustomed to doing.  Well, to everyone else she was missing.  She knew perfectly where she was:  down in the library flirting with Malfoy.

She bit her lip, feigning indecision.  "Well . . . "

"Please Gin?"  he asked. 

She sighed, pretending to be very disappointed.  "I'm sorry Ron, I just can't.  There are about fifty books in the library I need to look at, and I can't bring all the work home."

"C'mon, it's just an essay, you can finish it in the next two days!"

"_Ron,_ it has to be five feet long.  Five feet!  I haven't had anything that long since the summer, there's no way I'll be able to finish it.  I'm staying and that's it."

"Five feet?  Damn, you've got it bad."

She rolled her eyes.  "Don't remind me.  So, I'm sorry, but I'm staying."

He sighed in exasperation, finally admitting defeat.  "Fine, I guess I'll just owl you your present."

 She smiled.  "It won't be that bad.  Now, I have to go get some work done."  She retreated up the stairs to her dormitory, which was (thankfully) empty.  She didn't want to listen to the inane giggling of her house-mates.  She threw herself down on her bed.

She felt incredibly relieved.  He had bought it!  Now all she had to do was survive the next two days, and she'd be at Malfoy Manor, preparing to see Tom.

Draco had said she probably wouldn't get to see him the first few nights they were there, because she had to get settled in, and there were a few things the Deatheaters had to work out.  But that was fine with her, it just added to the anticipation she felt.  She would be so pleased when she could see him.

But she still had to wait two days.  Two long, hard days.  

_But at least I can talk to Draco.  Maybe get a little action,_ she thought, smiling evilly.  Licking her lips at the thought of him, she got up, and walked out of the dorm.

*        *          *          *          *          *

He was exactly where she thought he would find him:  the secluded corner in the library.  It had become the unofficial hiding place, and each seemed to have developed the uncanny ability of knowing when the other was there. 

She saw his eyes perk up when he noticed her, and the gleam in them that wasn't there previously.  She swung her hips slightly, taking mental note as Draco's smirk spread into a sly grin.  She slipped into the vacant seat beside him.

"Did it work, _Ginger_?"

She smiled at him, eyes slightly closed.

"Without a hitch.  Just like you said it would."

He smiled.  "Fantastic.  Now we just have to wait out these last two days with the gits at this school, and we'll be at the manor."

"Tell me about your manor?" she asked, genuinely curious.  She had never visited any of her "friends'" housed, so she had never seen any except for her own dilapidated mess.  If Draco was as classy as he (and everyone else) said he was, there would indeed be some beautiful furnishings. 

"I don't even know where to begin, the place is so big!"

"But how big?"

"Well, size doesn't really matter—"

"It matters in some cases," Ginny said suggestively, and slowly licked her lips.  She watched with amusement as Draco squirmed under her gaze.

"Er, anyway," he began, regaining his composure.  "It has over a hundred bedrooms, seventy baths, separate servants' quarters, a grand ballroom, a grand dining room, and several various parlors and studies.  Our grounds stretch for about ten miles around each side of the manor, and that includes our stables and Quidditch pitch."

Ginny seemed slightly awed at such grandeur.  "It sounds amazing!  It must be so much better than the Burrow!  You have no idea how horrible it is to live in something that looks as if it were about to tumble down any second."

He gave her a sympathetic look.  "It must be terrible."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically.  "At least I don't have to go back until the summer.  Now, what are your parents like?"

He smiled, eyes going slightly unfocused as he thought about them.  "Mother, she's a real gem.  She gets along with nearly everyone, and associates with the uppermost of society.  Father is very . . . " he paused, trying to think of an appropriate description.  "Father is noble, upstanding, decent, and respected.  He taught me everything I know about dueling."

"They sound wonderful."  She threw him another smile, one that made his insides flutter.

_Whoa, Draco, old boy, get a hold of yourself.  Damn hormones.  Stop thinking about her!_

She seemed to know of his inner conflict.  She slid a little closed to him.  "It must get so lonely over the summer, you being an only child and all, and not having anyone to hang out with."  She carefully placed her hand on Draco's knee, and gave him a understanding look. 

"Yes, it can get pretty boring."  _Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it._  She began to drag her fingers across his thigh.

_Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop_

His breathing began to quicken.  So did Ginny's.

Thoughts raced through her mind.  _Why do you want him so bad, Ginny?  What is it about him?  The looks, the attitude, the personality?  _He tilted his head towards her.  _I know, it's the eyes!_  

Draco's stormy eyes met hers, and Ginny found that she could no longer control herself.  She hopped out of her chair and onto Draco, straddling his lap.  His chair jolted back in surprise, and his face displayed a shocked—but pleased—expression.

"Enough fucking around, Draco," she said huskily.  "I'm sick of these damn games.  Kiss me, damnit!"

Draco needed no urging. 

Ginny reached up and weaved her hands through his hair, and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling their bodies closer together.  She nibbled his bottom lip, and he let her in, enjoying the feeling of their mingling tongues.

It was as if they had detonated a nuclear bomb.  Draco never recalled feeling so alive in his life.  Every part of his body was alert, and on fire.  Flames burned in his mouth, down his throat, through his insides.  He was holding a wildfire, one that raged over him and burned him with a craving that was near unbearable.  His body shook as she ground her hips against his, nearly sending him over the edge.  He never knew how satisfying just kissing could be.

Ginny felt shivers all down her body.  His hands were like ice, freezing her insides and sending deep shivers down her spine.  It was as if she had walked through a ghost, and come out on the other side barely breathing.  He was a drug to her, and if she wasn't careful, she would be easily addicted.  She ground her hips against him, and let out a soft moan. 

They stayed in that position for quite some time, until they heard someone trampling among one of the shelves near them.  Then they heard a soft voice.

"Ginny?  Are you back here?"

"Shit!" whispered Ginny as she pulled herself off Draco.  "It's Hermione!"

His eyebrows arched, and he looked mildly perplexed.  His mindset turned to confusion as Ginny jumped off him, and shoved him under the table.

"I'm right here, Hermione!" she called, voice shaking slightly.

Hermione rounded a corner.  "There you are!" she said, smiling.  "Dinner's almost over, you know.  Want to come with me?"

Ginny squeaked, and frantically squirmed in her seat.  "No thanks," she said in a strangled voice.  "I'm working on something!"

"Okay . . ." said Hermione, frowning at Ginny's odd behavior.  "Are you sure?"

Ginny couldn't speak; all she could do was nod fervently. 

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.  "All right, but Ron can't say I didn't try."  With that, she departed amongst the books.  

Ginny glared at the person under the table, her cheeks flaming.  "What did you think you were doing?!"

*        *          *          *          *          *

Draco whacked his head on the table as he was pushed under.  He cursed silently, and rubbed the sore spot.  

However, he noted that he was at a most advantageous position, if nothing else to serve his own amusement.  He scrunched his legs up and lay on his back, giving himself a lovely view up Ginny's skirt.

His gaze followed her long creamy legs to her thighs, then grinned when he saw what she was wearing.  

Black silk panties.

He felt . . . _himself_ . . . dance with arousal.  Who knew the little minx dared to wear such tantalizing underclothes?

He smiled slyly as an idea blossomed in his mind.  He turned over until he was kneeling, and lightly dragged his tongue around the inside of her thigh.  

Her body jerked in response, and she let off a squeak.  Draco chuckled softly; no doubt she was putting on a jolly show for the mudblood.  He remove his mouth, and gently placed a hand on her leg.  He slid it slowly up until he reached the top of her panties, and tugged slightly on the band.

He heard Granger walk away, and Ginny's face came flying under the table.  "What did you think you were doing?!"  She glared at him, and got more infuriated when he grinned.

"Why, I rather thought you liked it."

"You almost got us caught!  What do you think would have happened it she saw—"

She was cut off by Draco capturing her mouth. 

Whew, that should console you for a while!  Thank you . . . 

LaughingGasGirl (Yes, just a _bit_ painful) Nirejseki  (Favs?  BIG HUG!  I wish you luck with scaring the computer guy!)  Dazma  (PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!  The next chapter they'll be at the manor, and we all get our hot Tom, I PROMISE!  Thanks for the stars!)  Spiffy Chan  (Mmmm . . . Draco . . .)  XfaheyX (Fabs? BIG HUG!  Thank you!)   sasori  (No, she's much to attracted to him to be hitting him over the head.  But she ran it into a table this chappie!)  Tarillyn (More Super Sexy Tom in the next chapter!)  Jen (Thanks!)  cool (Thank you!)  Mochabutterfly  (Thanks a bunch!  I think I took _too_ much time this chapter, but at least it's long.)  skyblupink (Thank you!  And I'll _try_ to be faster)  snobaby4  (:blushes: you're too kind!) Solo  (Here it is, more!  And about that sundae… )  Nupil (Yes, loads of Tom/Ginny in the next chapters!)  Kelsey  (Well, it's here!  Just not fast enough)    


	8. EoD: 8

A/N:  More Draco, more Ginny, hurrah!  Fairly short, and they *still* don't meet Tom.  Dazma, you know I do it just to torture you.  Now, read on, thou who is stout of heart!  AHH! School starts MONDAY!  But don't worry, I will still update, *lol*

DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, and various other third parties.  Copyright infringement is not intended.

It worked.

The plan had worked, and Draco and Ginny now found themselves facing the great stone visage of Malfoy Manor.

Surprisingly, there were no obstacles that the two had to face, in order to get there.  

Ginny, under the pretense of sleeping, had stayed in her room when Hermione, the Wonder Twins, and the rest of the Gryffindors went down to breakfast.  She took her trunk, charmed it to be feather-light, and hurried out the portrait hole before anyone could come back and notice her.  She crept down the halls, until she came to a secluded classroom close to the main doors.  She dropped off her trunk, then headed into the Great Hall to have breakfast, and to wish them all off.

She slinked into her seat and grabbed a few pieces of toast, smothering them with butter.  She smiled as Ron turned to speak to her.

"We sure will miss you Ginny!  Are you positive that you want to stay?"

Ginny gave a sigh.  "Yes, I'm positive.  I really need to get a good grade on that essay.  But I'll miss all of you too."

Ron grabbed some sausages from a nearby platter, and shoveled them into his mouth.  "Weel, haff fun hen.  Eh 'ope ou dun't get lunly."

She blinked, not understanding a word her brother had just said.

Harry leaned over toward her, and winked.  "If you were still looking for a gift for Ron, I think it could be some table manners.  He might not like them, but I'm sure the rest of us would appreciate it."

Ron glared at Harry, and took a large swig of pumpkin juice to help him swallow.  "I said I hope you don't get lonely."  He checked his watch.  "Well, it looks like we should be going."  He pushed back his chair, and Harry and Hermione soon repeated the action.  "We already put our trunks in one of the carriages, so I guess we can just say goodbye here."

Ginny pretended to frown.  "All right, then.  Have a happy holiday."

"We will, and we won't forget to owl you your Christmas presents!"  He leaned over and gave her a brotherly hug, which she reluctantly returned.  "Stay out of trouble, will you?"

Ginny could only nod.

_You have no idea . . . _

*        *          *          *          *          *

Draco watched the scene in silence.  He was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, and was trying his best not to look at them while they were eating.  It tended to cause a loss of appetite.

He allowed himself a malicious smile when he saw Weasley (the big, gangly one) hastily hug his sister (the smaller, more attractive one), and then usher himself and the rest of the Dream Team away.  Ginny returned to the Gryffindor table, and took a pancake off a platter.  As she turned, seemingly to reach for the maple syrup, she glanced at the Slytherin table.  She caught Draco's eye, and gave a surreptitious wink.

He rose from the Slytherin table, regally placing his napkin upon his plate.  Crabbe and Goyle looked at him questioningly.

Draco rolled his eyes.  "I'm going _by myself._  You don't have to stop eating your breakfast."  The two boys gave bright smiles, and promptly resumed stuffing their faces.  Draco turned away, disgusted, and lightly strode out of the Great Hall.

Ginny watched him pass through the tall oak doors, and counted slowly in her head.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

She rubbed her eyes, and turned to Neville, who was sitting next to her.  "Whew, I'm beat.  I think I'll just get back into bed.  Have a happy holiday."

Neville smiled.  "Have a good Christmas, Ginny."

Ginny returned the smile, and got up from the table.  She walked out of the Great Hall and turned down the corridor, going to the room where she had stashed her trunk.  She lithely slipped in the door, and found herself facing Draco.

"Did you tell someone you were going back to bed?"

She nodded.  "Yes, Neville.  And he's not staying for the holidays so he will never know I was lying."

He grinned.  "Excellent.  Now all we have to worry about is someone seeing us on the way out."  He drew his wand.  "A glamour should do, don't you think?"

Ginny smiled.  "I always thought it would be interesting to be a blonde."

"Evitius lebinablum," said Draco, and casually flicked his wand at Ginny's hair.  Where her auburn curls had once lay, there was now a waterfall of straight golden tresses.  "Perfect."

Ginny raised her face to his.  "Thanks," She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, earning a lustful look from Draco.

"No need starting things that can't be finished, Ginger."

She smiled slyly.  "But judging from your descriptions, your bedroom should be quite large and comfortable."

"And it is."  He checked his watch.  "We need to get going."

She took his hand in hers.  "Do you think we will be able to do it?"

"Well, we've gotten this far, haven't we?  Besides, if we don't, it would mean that I was wrong, and I'm never wrong."

Ginny laughed.  "Oh, yes, for the day Draco Malfoy is wrong is the day that the apocalypse begins.  C'mon, let's get out of here."

She quickly peeked out the door, and after assuring no one was looking, grabbed her trunk and slipped out the door.  Draco waited a few moments, and then followed her.

The snow was bright across the grounds, temporary turning the castle into a winter wonderland fit for a Christmas card.  The whiteness seemed to reflect hope at the two, and renewed Ginny's faith.

Draco got into the carriage that all ready held his trunk, and helped Ginny shove hers into it.  He then held out his hand, and helped herself get in.  They slammed the door shut, and made there way slowly to the Hogsmeade train station.

They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.  Draco's were mainly filled with the little seductress sitting next to him, but Ginny's were filled with someone else.

_I'm so close, Tom.  Soon we will be together again._

Her eyes softened, and she smiled as she thought about him.

_I know you haven't changed, Tom.  I know you wouldn't do that to me.  You love me, just like I love you.  I can't wait to see you again, to hold you.  It's never been the same since you left.  I was so lonely, so very lonely.  All I ever wanted was to have you back, and now I get you._

She was looking out the window, gazing at the snow that swirled around the carriage, enveloping it in a whispery embrace.  She could see Tom's arms around her, hugging her, making everything seem peaceful again.  She wanted him so bad she could almost touch him, right now, even though he wasn't there.

She turned her arm over, and rolled up her left sleeve.  She carefully grazed her fingertips across her pale skin, forming the pattern that she had traced on Draco's forearm so many times before.  Her skin was the same color of the snow, with the same virginal purity that few possessed.  The field would be branded soon, and she would have the pretty little tattoo that she had been hungering for.  She would also have the pretty little inkslinger to go with it.

The carriage lurched to a halt, awakening both teenagers from their thoughts.  They had reached the Hogsmeade train station.

Ginny opened the door, drawing her cloak closer around her as the wind bit at her face and ears.  She jumped down to the ground, and grabbed the handle of her trunk, pulling it after her.  Draco followed her, taking his trunk.

The snow was falling thickly now, and with a wind that froze and stung, it was making the Hogwarts students get onto the train with more haste than usual.  Everyone was too busy with their own affairs to notice the two blonde teenagers who clandestinely walked away from the station.

The snow was thick in the streets of Hogsmeade, as the storm had just started about an hour ago.  No one had come to clear it out yet.  Ginny and Draco trudged their way through the main road, pulling their weight-free trunks behind them.  Ginny looked back once, and saw with approval their footsteps being slowly covered by the snow.

Finally, after their cloak hems and boots had been relatively soaked, they reached Hondeyduke's.  Draco led the way around to the back of the store, in a secluded little alleyway that looked as if no one had entered it for ages.

There, looking regal in an emerald cloak against the sparkling white background, was Lucius Malfoy.

He smiled malevolently as the two approached them.  He eyed Ginny as if she were some less-than-worthy gemstone, and he the appraiser.  "I thought you Weasley's all had that blinding red hair."

She narrowed her eyes at him, then smiled unkindly.  "We used a glamour, so no one would follow us.  Unless, of course, you'd like the whole village to know you were cavorting with such a low class as us?"  

Lucius laugh, one that was free of malevolence.  "Ah, what a temper!  My girl, no one talks like that to me.  But," he smiled slyly.  "I admire your spunk.  Now let's hurry, or we'll all freeze to death."

He pulled a small silver chalice out of his robe pocket, and held it out to the two.  Draco and Ginny held it with one of their hands, and had the others carefully hanging on to their trunks.  They waited a second, then were suddenly thrust into nothing with a small 'pop', Lucius Apparating shortly after their departure.

After the whirlwind of darkness, they landed with a thump on an oriental rug in the entryway of an imposing stone building.  Ginny looked to Draco, who was grinning.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor." 

Whew, that was fun, now wasn't it?  The elusive Tom Riddle makes an appearance in the next chapter, as I'm sure you all will be thrilled to learn.  Now, review!  Review if you love Tom or Draco!

Thank you . . . 

Lucius (Naughty=Good, *lol*) Shanm(Thanks!) sasori (I'm glad you like it!) Aerial (More, like requested ^_^) Spiffy Chan (MMM . . . Devilish . . .) LaughingGasGirl(No Tom yet, I'm sorry, but they *are* at the manor!) audig (Thanks!) Dazma (DON'T HURT ME!  I know, Tom wasn't in this chapter either, but they're at where he is!  Which means there will be a Tom appearance SOON!)


	9. EoD: 9

A/N: Woo hoo!  I've gotten through nine chapters of this, and I haven't quit yet, *lol*! Go me!   This is so fun to write, even if it takes me forever ^_^ I LURVE IT! *Snort* Anyway, this is IT. The long awaited chapter.  We finally get to see our beloved super-sexy Tom!  YAY!  Dedicated to Dazma, because she has yet to kill me. Now shoo, go and read!

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related characters and situations are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros Studios, and various other third parties unmentioned here.  I only own the plot. The quote is from So You Want To Be A Wizard, by Diane Duane.

_"(The Snuffer was always glorious to look at before it scorned the light,) Fred said.  (And it kept the beauty afterward—that's what the stars always used to say.  That's one reason it's dangerous to deal with that one.  The beauty . . . seduces.)"   _-- Fred, So You Want To Be a Wizard

It was the most magnificent place Ginny had ever seen, much better than Hogwarts, and ten times as great as the Burrow.  She was following Draco down the long corridors, making her way towards their rooms.  She wasn't concentrating on what direction they were heading, because her attention was captured by the walls.

Long rows of portraits lined the hallways, mainly of Malfoy ancestors.  There were tall, fair-haired beauties with sparkling gray eyes and long dresses of silk, and striking dark-haired men with top hats and coats with tails.  None of the wizards appeared to have robes on, donning expensive muggle clothes instead.  This was understandable, seeing as anti-muggle security was at a minimum in those days, and anyone suspected of practicing magic would either be hanged or burned in the streets.  All in all, it wasn't a pleasant time to be a wizard.

There were others, too.  At the head of the entryway had been an acrylic painting, two meters in height, of a tall man with dark hair.  He was very handsome, with a slightly upturned nose, and a small beard, jet-black like the closely cropped curls on his head.  He was wearing well-fitted robes of emerald green, and had large, bright blue eyes.  The painting seemed to smirk at you as you walked past it, and sat with a disdainful smile on its face.  A small silver plaque under it had the inscription: Salazar Slytherin, c. 1141. 

He was a very yummy-looking evil wizard indeed.  Ginny had noticed that, though.  There were portraits in her History of Magic textbook of some of the most-infamous dark wizards, and they all had been extremely good-looking.  She knew that was part of the reason they got so many followers.  People could be persuaded to love a cause, if it had a pretty face to front it.  But a pretty face wasn't all you had to have.  Tom was handsome, yes, but he had more.

Tom was an essence in his self.  He wasn't a face for the cause, but he _was_ the cause.  He not only started the movement, but also continued to have it grow even after he was almost defeated.  

_Defeated repeatedly,_ admitted Ginny to herself, grudgingly.  _Damn Harry!  Every time Tom gets something accomplished, Harry has to go and ruin it.  The bloody git gets in the way too much, not longer Tom wants him dead._

After what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, Draco announced that they had arrived at their quarters.   They were located in another long hallway, this one with large swords and daggers adorning the walls.  

Draco gestured to a door on Ginny's right.  "That's where you'll be staying.  If there is anything you'll need, just tell one of the house elves, and they'll be sure to provide it for you."

Ginny nodded, and opened the door, carrying her trunk after her.

She gasped; the room was surely fit for a princess!  It had lush emerald carpeting, thick and warm under her feet, and the walls were covered in emerald velvet wallpaper.  There was a large armoire for her clothes, and a cedar dressing table next to it.  But the main focus of the room was centered on the bed, standing in the middle of the farthest wall, on a small raised platform.  It was a four-posted, like the one at Hogwarts, but with silver and emerald silk hangings.  Soft silver blankets covered, as Ginny was to discover later that night, sheets of the highest thread count imaginable.

Ginny felt small and shabby next to the fine furnishings.  She didn't deserve to be standing in it, much less be spending her vacation there.  

She dragged her trunk over by the armoire, and opened its large doors.  She opened the lid to her trunk, and drew her wand.  She flipped her wrist lazily, and muttered a handy little charm that propelled her clothing onto the hangers.  She grinned; unpacking was finished.

She strode back to the hallway, and looked around.  A door next to hers and on the right was open, and this was what she assumed was Draco's room.  She stepped up to it, and leaned on the doorjamb.

She watched, eyes half closed, as Draco unpacked his things.  He did it manually, carefully lifting each of his designer robes, and hanging it carefully up.  She smirked to herself, noticing that he was categorizing them by color.

After a few minutes, he seemed to notice he was being watched, and he lifted his head.  He smiled as he saw Ginny.  "Anything wrong Ginger?"

"No," she said, walking into the room.  "I just noticed the obvious . . . _closeness_ of our rooms.  Had it all planned out, did you?"

He laughed.  "Yes, of course," he said, lightly sarcastic.  "I had planned to creep into your room in the dead of night, and rape you."

She snorted inelegantly, and casually strolled over to him.  She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing him closer to her.  

"I'm sorry," she said, her lips mere centimeters away from his.  "But that won't work."

He lidded his eyes.  "And why, pray tell, not?"

She licked her lips seductively.  "You can't rape the willing,"

She laughed at the shocked look on his face, and leaned in to kiss him. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled them.  The two turned around guiltily, a high flush spread across their cheeks.  Leaning casually against the doorway, as Ginny had done just moments before, was Lucius Malfoy.

"As much as I hate to interrupt," he said, eyes glinting with malicious mirth.  "I've come to inform you of a slight change of plans.  Our gracious Lord Voldemort will be able to see you now, instead of in a few days."

Ginny blinked, scarcely believing her ears.  Tom?  NOW?  She broke out into a wide grin, which seemed to illuminate the entire room.  Draco stood beside her, wondering at her expression.

"You really want to be a Death Eater, don't you?" he asked.

She smiled at him, eyes lidded.  "I've been waiting for this for years."   

*        *          *          *          *          *

They retraced their steps through the hallway, and entered a wing of the house that branched off the entryway where they first appeared.  The walls were bare here, save for black velvet wallpaper, similar to the kind in Ginny's room, except for the color.  She stretched her hand out to touch it, marveling at the softness.

They stopped in front of a pair of large oak doors, fashioned with iron doorknobs, and a large iron knocker twisted in the shape of the Malfoy dragon, the same one that graced the family crest.

"Father's study," whispered Draco, leaning close to say it in her ear.  "Lord Voldemort uses it as his office when he stays with us.  He has his own separate quarters that branch off of it."

Ginny nodded, and bit her lip nervously, as Lucius raised his hand to knock.  _Five years is a long time, _she thought.  _What if he doesn't like me anymore?  Or worse . . . _she shuddered.  _What if he doesn't even remember?  What will I do then?_

"Come in," said a voice from within.  It sent shivers down her spine.  It was his voice, all right.  The very same one she had been hearing in her dreams ever since the chamber.  It had been haunting her, seeming to exist only in her mind.  Sometimes she even wondered if it really happened.

Now, however, she had heard it again.  And she smiled, because she _knew _it had happened.

Lucius opened the door, revealing a large room with spacious ceilings.  Lofty bookcases were stuffed to the brim, and Ginny could read titles such as _The Grim Grimoire _and _Veritaserum: Easy Tampering for Crafty Minds_.  A large wooden desk stood in front of her, and it was currently scattered with numerous pieces of parchment, many with the seals of the prominent wizarding families involved in the Dark Arts.

However, all of Ginny's attentions were on a large backed chair that was set in front of a roaring fireplace.  The fire made shadows dance across the room, and added an eerie, but strangely exotic feeling to it.  She couldn't see, but rather _feel _his presence.  

Her breath caught in her throat; here she was, in the same room with her beloved Tom, after so many years of dreaming and hoping and wishing in vain.  

"Lucius, Draco," he said, not turning around.  "Thank you for bringing me Miss Weasley.  If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone with her for a while."  He paused, and Draco flashed Ginny a curious look.  "Don't be alarmed, Draco," said Tom, not turning around.  "She won't be harmed.  Now leave us.  And lock the door behind you.  I don't want any interruptions."

"Yes Master," replied Lucius, and gesturing to Draco, father and son left the room together.  The telltale click of the lock sounded as they left, leaving Ginny alone with her dreams. 

"Come here, Ginny," he said, still not rising from the chair.  His voice was softer now, with an element she couldn't recognize, that was absent when he was talking with the Malfoys in the room.

She took a deep breath, and stepped up to the chair, trembling.  Doubts were flashing by, each more disconcerting than the last.  _What if he doesn't remember?  What if I meant nothing to him?_

She turned to face him, but she still couldn't see him.  His face was hidden in the shadow of the chair's side.  He stretched out his hand, and Ginny took it in her own.  She was amazed at its texture, as smooth as the wallpaper she had touched earlier.

"Tom?" she asked, eyes wide.  

He rose from the chair, and turned to face her.

He looked exactly the same, not a day over seventeen.  The same brownish-black hair, and deep chocolate eyes that made Ginny's knees quiver when she gazed into them.  He had the smallest constellation of freckles across the bridge of his nose, going nicely with the pale skin he had since he was a little boy.  He was about five inches taller than her, his chin reaching to the top of her head.  He had the same broad shoulders, with a nicely sculpted chest, but not too built, made that way from playing Quidditch.  Ginny couldn't believe her eyes. It really was _Tom._

He was so beautiful; it hurt her to look at him. Ginny's eyes began to water.  He looked like an _angel_.  He was her fallen angel.  _Hers._

He brought up his other hand, and lightly wiped away a tear that had begun to slide down her cheek.  He then put the hand under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his.

"Ginny," he said roughly, his eyes shining.  He scooped her up in his arms, and kissed her deeply.

Ginny closed her eyes and sighed, content in finally being in his arms.  She began to cry silently.  _God, Tom, it was so long.  I didn't think you'd ever come back._

_Ssssshhh, _she heard in her mind, and knew instantly it was him.  _It's all right.  I'm back.  I won't leave you again.  _

-----------------------------------------------------

Yeah!  Super sexy Tom has returned!  SO didja like it? Didja?  Review and let me know!  One more and I'll have 100! ^_^ Sorry, no thank yous today.  My internet time has been reduced to only an hour a day (because of school, grrrr), so it would take too long right now.  But THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH to everyone who has reviewed, and I promise I'll put individual thanks in the next chapter I get out (whenever that may be). 


	10. EoD: 10

A/N:  *sings* I love you, you love me, we all love Tom and Ginny(and Draco)!  All right, next chapter!  I know, I know, it's been a terribly long wait, and this is a terribly short chapter.  But things have been a little . . . "hectic," around here lately, and this is all I can get out right now.  Be warned, it gets really sappy.

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related characters and situations are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros Studios, and various other third parties unmentioned here.  I only own the plot.

They were sitting in the armchair, facing the fire, watching the flames dance and lick at each other, in a strange and captivating type of dance.  His arms were wrapped around her, and the two bodies produced one silhouette, which spread out in a pool of darkness across the carpet.

She snuggled closer to him, and closed her eyes.  She breathed deeply, inhaling his smell of pine and soap and pepper.  He was finally back, her love.  She had longed to be able to see him, to touch him, to be held by him.  And now she had her wish.

"I said I would come back for you, didn't I?" he asked, awakening her back to reality.  

She smiled, and gazed at him lovingly.  "You did.  I had almost given up, but you did."

He grinned at her, and reached for her left arm.  He slowly drew the sleeve of her emerald jumper back, revealing the skin beneath.  It was pale, and delicate, with the small tracery of veins visible just below the exterior.  He took one pale, manicured finger, and ran it over the surface.  Ginny marveled at the finger.  It was the color of moonlight, and long and precise.  His hands were those of an artist, gentle and talented, beautiful in their own right.

"Do you remember asking for your tattoo?" he asked.

She nodded.  "I want to show everyone that I believe in you," she said, looking into his eyes.

He smiled slowly, revealing a row of commercial-white teeth.  He withdrew his wand from his pocket, and pointed it at her arm.

"_Jestumpirla,"_ he whispered, and she gasped as the color appeared.  Tears sprang into her eyes as the first bits of pain came.  It felt as if tiny snakes of lava were coiling themselves around her arm, and branding her with their mark.

"Shh," said Tom soothingly.  "I'm sorry it hurts, but it will only last a minute.  I promise."  He lightly kissed the top of her head.

Bright green threads traced their way across her arm, crossing and dragging into a frail pattern, reminiscent of a spider's web.  They were last in their own ballet, jumping and falling and sliding around each other, before settling themselves, and forming a skull, with a snake slithering out of it's mouth.

The pain had stopped just as suddenly as it had begun.  "It's _beautiful,_" she said, awed. She turned her arm to the light, to see it better.  The fire made it sparkle with a crystalline essence, seeming ethereal.  "It's so beautiful."

He kissed her on her forehead.  "I'm glad you like it."  He paused, and then continued on.  "Why do you believe in my cause?" he asked, genuinely curious.  He knew that he had charmed his way into her brain, but never understood the depth he had achieved in her heart.  

Love was what had ensnared her at the beginning.  Ginny's love for Tom, and her need to have his approval.  Gradually it grew so that she associated loving the cause with loving Tom himself.  Tom wouldn't understand, though, even if she explained it.  Seventy years of being lonely and abandoned never made him understand love.

"Because I just believe in you," she said, and gazed her wide brown eyes into his own.  "I have faith."

He blinked, registering her words.  _I have faith._

A funny stirring arose in the Dark Lord's chest.  He had been given money, women, and devotion.  He had been given the worship of thousands of Death Eaters.  He had almost been given the world, if that scrawny Potter had not taken it away.  But Ginny's gift was different, and eons more meaningful.

No one had ever given him their faith.

*        *          *          *          *          *

Draco sighed, patiently waiting in his chambers, as he was wont to do when Lord Voldemort was in residence.  Awaiting his orders, as he was certain they were to come.  No doubt the Dark One had come up with some ingenious scheme to overthrow Hogwarts, that needed to be fulfilled by Draco and Ginny when they got back after holiday.  Or at least some plot to lure Potter away from the castle.

He was irked.  To say the least.  He rolled over, and rubbed his temples, trying to stop the potential headache that was forming.  _Don't think about it._  He thought.  _Don't even think about it._

_Jesus Christ!  Did you see the way she was looking at him in there?  It was sickening!_

_Only because she's never looked at you like that, isn't that right, Draco?_

_No!  I don't care.  She was just around for some snogging when I wanted some action._

_Yeah, sure, uh huh.  I'm _certain _that's why you're obsessing over the damn girl.  Because she was just for action.  By the way, did you happen to look at her while she was looking at him?  Seems like you're not going to be in the spotlight anymore . . . _

He cringed, and squeezed his eyes shut.  No, it was just a figment of his imagination.  It was a trick of the light, caused by the irregular light of the fire.  There was absolutely nothing in her eyes that were any different.  Absolutely nothing that was different.

But there was.  No matter how valiantly Draco tried to deny it, the facts still remained.  Ginny seemed awed simply by Voldemort's presence.  He had seen the looks on adoring Death Eater's faces, but it was nothing compared to her gaze.  There was an extra spark in them, like a fire that had burnt down to the embers, and had suddenly blazed back into being.

A fire that wasn't there when she was kissing Draco, telling him she wanted to be with him.

He felt defeated, and one solitary tear dripped down his cheek.  He loved her, he realized, even though he had always know it.  She was the _only_ person he had ever loved.  His Ginger.

And she was in love with the Dark Lord.

Did you like it?  Hate it?  Review, and tell me!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed at least once for ch 7, 8, 9.  Sorry if I left anyone off!:

Dazma, i.e, Draco Fan, Lucius, shanm, sasori, Aerial, Spiffy Chan, Laughing Gas Girl, audig, Lisa, Lady-Nimoe, Adria, Manissetan, Nirejseki, Danie, Ditzy spacecadets, Wasn'tMe, Ewok, ~*Frankie*~, supergirl, Kasumi, Akawsha, Princess of Mordor, hpangel, greeneyes-blackleather


	11. EoD: 11

A/N:  Ok, Ok, I agree, the tear was a *bit* OOC.  But hey, that's why they call it fanfiction, right?  *Snort*  This is incredibly short, I'm sorry.  But I'm currently afflicted with really bad writer's block.  Religious people, be warned, for in this chapter Tom mocks God.  And he gets a little kinky with Gin *winkwink*.  Anyway, here's the next chappie.  I think I know where I'm going to lead this story . . . 

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related characters and situations are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros Studios, and various other third parties unmentioned here.  I only own the plot.

Acceptance came to Draco in many stages.

The first stage was shock.  Draco was shocked when he saw the look Ginny bestowed upon Voldemort.  Not only shock that she could love a seventy-year-old dark wizard, but shock that she wasn't enamored to himself.  He was shocked that all the weeks they had spent together, snogging each other senseless, and even just talking, appeared to have meant nothing.  All the things he had told her, how he opened up to her, they were just tossed away when she saw him.

After the initial shock wore away, there came depression.  How could she do that to him?  How _could_ she?  She was his, and his only, his precious Ginger.  How could she just shove his love to the side like that?  Just like it was nothing?  And instead of him, she turned to Voldemort.  Voldemort!  Draco's love for Ginny was pure, didn't she see that?  All the Dark Lord wanted her for was temporary amusement!

Draco stayed in gloomy-mode for a few more moments.  Then came the next stage of acceptance:  anger.

He inhaled deeply, attempting to prevent himself from screaming out in rage.  What right did she have?  The fucking tart, she was just using him!  She wasn't anything special; she was just a little whore, willing to use her body any way she could to get what she wanted.

Eyes flashing, Draco approached the old oak desk that was settled in the corner, and grabbed the first thing that came across his path of vision:  a small porcelain figurine of Wronski, flying on his broomstick.  It was an original, and the insignia of the Medici family, the greatest craftsmen in the world, was scrawled across the base.  A priceless original, one that had cost Narcissa Malfoy thousands of galleons, and even more in promises and favors, to get as a Christmas present for her only son.

It smashed against his bedroom wall, miniscule shards streaming down like a waterfall.  It created a nice little mess that Draco would be sure the House-Elves would take care of.  Well, once he left the room.  No servant was stupid enough to intrude upon a Malfoy when they were in a temper.

He stalked up and down, fists clenching and unclenching.  He took a few more deep breaths.  The adrenaline that came with his anger always played havoc with his mind, and he needed a few moments to cool down, so he could think.

He sat roughly on the smooth bedspread, streaming out under him like a soft copper ocean.  It glinted merrily up at him, and he scowled in return.  He looked around his room, at the red walls and copper and gold furnishings.  He had chosen to stay in this one over the holidays because it gave him an odd oriental vibe.  Now, however, he decided it looked incredibly too Gryffindor.  _I have _got_ to move to a room with different colors,_ he thought.

He placed his elbows on his knees, and cupped his face with his hands.  He rubbed his eyes, hard, and tried to clear his head.

_What to do with her?_ He asked himself.  For surely _something_ had to be done.  She had, after all, tricked and used a Malfoy.  Draco Malfoy, no less.  And angering Draco Malfoy was about as safe as sleeping in a nest of lethifolds.

He stood back up, determined.  He reached in his pocket and elegantly withdrew his wand, tracing the shaft with his finger.  He decided he needed some time to practice the curses dear old dad had taught him over the summer.  And what better target indeed than one who is alive?

_That ghastly flaming hair should make her easier to hit._

Besides, if he couldn't have her, he would damn well make sure no one else could.

*        *          *          *          *          *

She was still in his study, draped across the high backed chair they had been sharing a few hours ago.  She was watching him with half-lidded eyes, strangely content to just sit there and _be_.  It was a strange feeling, and seemed to remind her of lazy summers long past, times before Hogwarts when the only things to worry about were if it was going to rain that day, and the only thing she missed was Mum's Christmas cookies, which she wouldn't get until December.

He was sitting at a desk, carefully going through papers and sorting them into different piles.  Lists of possible initiates, that was what he had said.  Very important, as they would need to build up their forces for the war that was coming.

War was eminent, that was positive.  Weak though Fudge may be, Tom knew he would never surrender the Ministry outright.  As far as Tom was concerned, once they had the Ministry they would be able to take on all of wizarding Britain.  After the desolate island was decontaminated of the muggle and mudblood scum, he would spread like a virus, pouring into France and Germany, conquering every country as he went along.  

Tom remembered something briefly from the Sunday school classes he had taken while he was at the orphanage.  The second coming, was that it?  It was with that silly little God those muggles believed in.  Or was it his son, Jesus?  Tom shook his head.  It wasn't important.  But he remembered the great personage separating those who were worthy from those who weren't.

He smirked.  He would play Jesus to those mudbloods.  He would unleash his vengeance upon the earth, and he would purge the soil of those unworthy non-magic peoples.  He would start with the muggles, and then filter out the mudbloods from the rest of the society.  He scowled; they did not deserve to be called witches or wizards.  They smeared dirt upon the name.  He was here to reclaim the ancient respect it had once purveyed.

He was here to bring back the honor.

Tom raised his eyes to look at Ginny, who was still sitting in the chair, staring at him.  She smiled a cat-like smile, seductive in its innocence.

He smiled, and raised himself from the desk.  He arched his back, stretching his newly restored teenage muscles, which ached.  He strolled over to the chair, and sat on the arm of it.

"I think I can take a break.  Is there anything you would like, m'dear?  You know I could give you anything."

She looked up at him, eyes sparked with mischief.  "Anything?"

His eyes narrowed, reflecting her dark playfulness.  "I could give you the world if you only asked nicely," he teased.

"I don't want the world." She stated, bluntly.  "I want you."

He grinned, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her mouth towards his.  Ginny winced in pain, slightly, because she had never been kissed so harshly.  His mouth demanded satisfaction, he ripped it out of her, and she willingly obliged.  God, she never knew how it could _hurt_ . . . but make her so incredibly _aroused_ at the same time.

_God, Ginny, never knew you were kinky, did you?_ She thought.  It was the last coherent thing that played in her mind for quite a while.

She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent that was wrapped around her.  He smelt wild, like ginger, and his kisses tasted of cinnamon.  It reminded her of a muggle candy she had once tried . . .  an atomic fireball, that's what it was.  It had the same burning sensation as if she had tried to eat one of the logs off the fire.  But this felt _so good_.

They separated briefly, and she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"I've been saving myself for you,"

He pulled back, and looked into her eyes, slightly shocked, and clearly amused.  "For me?  Thank you," he grinned, and swept her into his arms.  He walked across the study and kicked open the door that led to the adjoining bedroom, Ginny giggling gleefully the whole way. 


End file.
